


Scenes from Winter Veil

by Laura_Maz



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snow, The Feast of Winter Veil, fairshawlidays, various locations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28046664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Maz/pseuds/Laura_Maz
Summary: Days before the Feast of Winter Veil, the cold has settled in in Stormwind.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. Since I am always shy to ask and I like a difficult life, both prompts - Mistletoe and Fireplace - are in.

_Stormwind, inside a small apartment, evening time some twenty days before Winter Veil. Sitting room with a brown sofa which has seen better days. Above the sofa, an old glass lamp with a place for four candles lights the place with a warm, golden glow. The fireplace is dark, logs prepared to be lit up. Mathias Shaw is kneeling next to it, matches in hand, dressed cosy with mixed wool trousers and a tunic, Flynn Fairwind, dressed similarly, is standing next to him with a basket of decorations in hand._

M. “Flynn, what manner of wood have you brought home? The logs are too fresh, they’re never going to burn!”

F. “Come on, Mattie, can you not complain for once? I think it’s you that can’t really light up a fire, mate”.

M. “Stop grinning and hang those decorations. After all, you wanted them, didn’t you? The twine should be in a drawer in the kitchen, but first I would like that you give a look at these logs and say if it’s a problem of mine! Touch this! See, it’s wet and… no, NO, I can see you, take your mind out of the gutter and keep your hands to yourself, you impenitent scoundrel.”

F. “Ah, Mattie, look at yourself, you’ve blushed like a maid. Hm, I think you just need to add some of that powder I smuggled from Boralus a couple of months ago. And quickly, please. It’s cold in here”.

M. “You’re demanding, aren’t you? Oh, the nerve… wait, give me a moment, here we are, it’s starting. My hands are really freezing. Wait, no, what are you doing!?”

F. “Don’t stop blushing, love, you’re adorable. I’m just trying to warm you up before the fire starts properly. You ought to tell me about it, I’m so hot, and you know it well. Ah, there we are, that shade of pink on your lily-white skin is very endearing”.

M. “I… you… You!”

F. “And when you’re stuttering you’re even more adorable. Feeling better? Are your hands a bit warmer?”

M. “Yes… I keep wondering why I took you in to live with me, you know?!”

F. “Oh, I do, and I know the answer, too. I’m a joy to have around, a blessing for sore eyes and a devil in bed…”

M. “Flynn, just hang those damn things around and leave the bed out of our sitting room!”

F. “Mattie, I think you really need to relax. I will take care of that later, don’t worry. Where can I hang these wreaths?”

M. “By the Light… One on the window, the other on the mantelpiece. Quick with that window, it’s cold outside. Wait, what is that?”

F. “Mistletoe, my esteemed spymaster without compare. Let me deal with it. Now, there… Like this, it should be okay”.

M. “Why did you hang it to the lamp?”

F. “Honestly, for being the Master of Spies you’re quite slow…”

_Fairwind scoops the bewildered Spymaster in his arms and falls on the sofa kissing his lover passionately. The mistletoe is hanging innocently above them._


	2. Drustvar's snows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission, a cabin in the snow of Drustvar, two rogues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we like seeing them snowed in and bundled up in Drustvar, all of us, don't we?  
> Both prompts for a difficult life.

_One year prior, around Winter Veil. Outside, among the snowy mountains of Drustvar, a small, ramshackled cabin is almost hidden among the rocks, with a dark wood in the background. The snow is piled up all around, making it impossible to discern a path. Sharp rocks like teeth pierce it every now and then. The sky is overcast and the snow is falling heavily, carried by the howling wind. - Inside, the cabin is dark, bare, with nothing but a dark fireplace. Two freezing rogues, Spymaster Mathias Shaw and Captain Flynn Fairwind, are sitting next to each other, shoulder to shoulder._

F. “You see, Mattie, in our bad luck we are lucky anyway. Our trek could have gone far worse, couldn’t it?”

M. “First of all, stop calling me like that, Fairwind. And this mission could not be easily worse than this - snowed in in a cabin lost in the mountains of Drustvar in the dead of winter, with no fire… and with you”.

F. “Ow, you wound me, Mattie. I have many talents, you know, and I’m sure you also know I can entertain you. I can make things better for you - and myself - in this situation”. 

M. “Wait… what do you mean with that?!”

F. “Tomorrow’s Winter Veil and while you might be vexed to be stuck here, you have me to keep you company. Besides, I’ve noticed that that ridiculous cloak and your armor are hardly going to keep you warm”. 

M. “And how does this concern you?”

F. “Well… I could take care of that problem for you, so you won’t freeze to death”.

M. “H-how would you…”

F. “Promise me you won’t stab me?”

M. “No”.

F. “Come on, Mattie! You’re trembling”.

M. “I’m not”.

F. “I can feel it, no need to lie”.

M. “F-fairwind, stop it. I-I’m perfectly fine”.

F. “You’re already stuttering”.

M. “Fairwind!”

F. “It’s me. Well? Can I?”

M. “C-can you do what? D-don’t you dare to t-try a-a-anything…”

F. “... untoward? You really think I would do anything untoward to the stabby Spymaster of the Alliance?!”

M. “Y-yes, I-I do, i-in fact”.

F. “Aw, Mattie, it’s not like I asked you to lie on a sacrificial altar of the Coven!”

M. “A-all I c-can imagine is y-you are a-asking me t-to sacrifice m-my d-dignity t-to you!”

F. “Not like anyone would know…”

M. “You would know!”

F. “Mattie, be realistic.. I’m warmer than you and with both my coat and that ridiculous cloak of yours we could have a decent night… well, not decent, but we could survive. The temperature will drop very low very soon. I could be in danger, too… please, consider this your present to me!”

M. “You… I… well, f-fine. How?”

F. “First of all, take those pauldrons off, please, lest you kill me accidentally while we’re sleeping”.

M. “F-fine, one m-moment… here. N-now?”

F. “Come here. And don’t look so tragic… yes, like this. Curl like this. Let’s use your cloak to cover us both”.

M. “F-Flynn…”

F. “Ah, now are we on a first name basis? If I’d known, I’d have hugged you to my heart way earlier”.

M. “Fairwind!”

_Bundled up in their cloak and greatcoat, Fairwind is holding Shaw tightly as if the spymaster could vanish into thin air any moment. Shaw, on his part, has stopped trembling and has hidden his face into the big man’s chest, hugging him and pretending even with himself that he doesn’t enjoy being torn apart from the world together with him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short sketch. As always, comments and feedback are very appreciated.


	3. The Punishment of Master Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the cases in which the malice of the inanimate objects is very much helped by Flynn's willing clumsiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. I tried to put in both prompts (Decorating / Terrible Mishap), because I liked the combo.

_Stormwind, evening time some twenty days before Winter Veil. Inside a small apartment, a good sized sofa lies in front of the fireplace. Next to it, a small table with two chairs and beyond a kitchen.The space is so small that the chairs are on the narrow sides of the table. A narrow passage runs from the wall next to the fireplace to the kitchen, and the chair, where one Mathias Shaw is currently sitting and doing the accounts, is right there._

_A weird Winter Veil’s wreath with a skeletal Greatfather Winter in his garb hangs from the mantelpiece and other similar decorations hang from the lamp next to the mistletoe and on the window panes. In the corner next to the fireplace there is a huge fir tree. Flynn Fairwind’s standing next to it with a sack of decorations to his feet._

M. “Say, Flynn, how much did you pay for that… for those things?”

F. “These, you mean? One gold for everything, Mattie, isn’t that cool? I’ve always known I’ve got a knack for business, I’ll have you know it!”

M. “Uh... And what would that be? the thing you’re handling?”

F. “Why, Mattie, it’s Greatfather Winter, can’t you see it?”

M. “That’s a Yeti with a Greatfather Winter’s hat. Light, Flynn, are you blind?”

F. “Uh… Mattie, you really don’t understand. This is what they call ‘creativity’... it’s a symbol!”

M. “Yeah, a symbol. Of what?”

F. “Now, now, you must know, not all symbols are immediately understandable. I’m still learning about the hidden meanings...”

M. “Oh, I have no doubts about that. And what are those decorative strings in there…?”

F. “Pray, will you let me finish this? I promise, this all will make sense when I’m done”

M. “Ah well, if you say so…”

_The bantering couple goes back to their respective tasks and soon enough Flynn’s more or less done with the decorations._

_Since the tree is taller than him by a full head and quite large, he fetches a stool and gives it the last touches while carefully perched on the small piece of furniture.  
When the tree is ready, its sight is… challenging: festive yetis and owlbeasts dangle dancing together from the branches together with harpies girdled with holly, while small enchanted lights shaped like red and white reindeer skulls are shining happily on the inner branches making the tree bright and lively. Decorative lines of small red, green and white ghosts complete the tree and Flynn can be see on the stool, leaning on the tree dangerously off balance to be able to put on the tree topper - a white wraith with a cartouche which reads MERRY WINTER VEIL in red letters._

_His foot slips, he hits the top and pushes the tree that buckles and falls, crashing in a cloud of broken shards of decorations directly on top of the unwitting spymaster, burying him under the thick branches. Flynn stands on the stool, petrified, one hand on his mouth, the other still holding the wraith, while a roar comes out from under the tree._

M. “FAIRWIND!!!”


	4. The sweetest taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flynn sulks, but he’s too clever not to turn the situation to his own advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. Since I am always shy to ask and I like a difficult life, both prompts - Sweet tooth and Feast- are in.

_Stormwind Keep, some days before Winter Veil, inside the Main Hall. Everything is decorated for the Ball of Winter Veil. A colourful and heterogeneous crowd of nobles, dignitaries and V.I.P. of multiple races and origins is swirling around dancing, chatting, gossiping. The ball has been going on for quite a while now, and most people are inebriated and cheerful. In the area reserved to the royalty, advisors and the higher ranking nobles, Mathias Shaw and Flynn Fairwind are talking together with King Wrynn and Prince Wrathion, while King Greymane and his Queen and others are hovering nearby. The four of them have been talking about nice things, have sipped a lot of costly wine and eaten the delicate small pastries, things that have brought them to discover a peculiar skill of the good Spymaster._

F. “... and this? Sure you can’t guess this”.

M. “Sure I can. Hazelnut custard and small drops of candy moonberry”.

P. W. “Spymaster Shaw, you never cease to surprise me. How can you even guess the ingredients? You aren’t even looking at the pastries!”

M. “It’s just skill and a gift for sweet things”.

P. W. “A skill is only developed to this fine point with training and dedication”.

F. “But you never eat sweets at home… what’s that smug grin, now?!”.

K. A. “Probably our Spymaster has got his own secrets, Captain Fairwind”.

M. “Well, I wouldn’t say that this is really important. It’s just a silly thing, if you consider we are called to taste poisons to learn to guess them and fortify ourselves”.

F. “Taste this, Mattie. Close your eyes. Now”.

P. W. “What’s wrong, Captain? Judging by your tone, you seem bothered. I hope you won’t take offence at such a small, innocent secret”.

M. “Flynn, come on… hmm, this is mascarpone cheese, lemon, sugar and strawberries”.

F. “...”.

K. A. “Really, this display of discernment is impressive. You really must have a sweet tooth, to guess so precisely. It looks as if you have years of practice... and to think you’re always so fit!”

P. W. “Indeed! Shall we make another try? Captain?”

_Flynn is looking at the Spymaster in silence, sulking, while the older man cannot contain his amusement which is directed exclusively towards the Kul Tiran._  
_As soon as Shaw closes his eyes awaiting the next pastry, Flynn steps forth, grabs him and kisses him passionately among the surprised nobility and royalty. A loud cheer rises around them and even an amused King Wrynn claps his hands joyously, while the Spymaster gasps shocked, eyes wide._  
_Flynn releases him with a wide, mischievous grin on his face and Shaw takes a step back, speechless and at the peak of embarrassment._

F. “And what’s the taste of this, then?”


	5. An Eve of Winter Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When sadness and loneliness turn into angry kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. Since I am always shy to ask and I like a difficult life, both prompts - Reunion and Holiday Party - are in.

_Boralus, Eve of Winter Veil. Inside, the Shark is packed with people, most of them the crews of the_ Bold Arva _and_ Middenwake. _Winter Veil decorations are scattered profusely everywhere, ale and booze in general are flowing like a river in spring and everyone is having a great time. Captain Flynn Fairwind is like a bee flying from flower to flower, talking to some, laughing with some others, drinking and chattering and showing off in front of his crewmen._

Cr.1. “Wonderful night, Captain!”

Cr. 2. _giggles_ “Aye, Captain, this is the best party ever. I have never seen a Captain taking so much care of his people… sure you know how to keep your crews with yourself!” 

F. “It’s my honour and privilege… besides you’ve all been working hard and anyone here deserves some well earned rest”.

Cr. 2 “Yes, but… we really need to throw another party soon, Captain Fairwind. We are sorely missing your partner. I’ve seldom seen such an elegant and dashing man…”

F. “Yeah, well… I know it. I miss him, too. Sadly his job… you know… State matters… his time is not his own…”

Cr. 1 “Captain, no need to justify him. It’s just we would have been happy to see him to wish him a merry Winter Veil”.

Cr. 2 “Yes! So handsome… pray, tell us the next time Spymaster Shaw will be here with us!”

F. “Aye… uh… that’s something I cannot promise, sadly”.

Cr. 1 “Captain, don’t worry, we understand. It’s no one’s fault. What we mean is that it’s sad you have to be separated at this time of year”.

Cr. 2 “Indeed. They’re cruel to send him away mere days before Winter’s Veil”.

F. “I’m sure it doesn’t really work like that, you know. Anyway, enjoy the party! I’ll see you in five days at the berth. Merry Winter Veil, folks!”

Cr. 2 “Oh, you’re going so soon… Merry Winter Veil, Captain!”.

_Fairwind waves goodbye in the midst of a tremendous hollering of ‘Merry Winter Veil!’. He goes out in the snowy night, squeezes his greatcoat tighter around himself and his smile fades as he walks to the portal area._

_Stormwind. Inside the small, dark apartment. The fireplace, the giant fir tree, kitchen and other pieces of furniture are barely visible in the light of a single candle on the table. A dark shape is moving towards the stairs that lead to the room and bathroom, when the door opens with a bang, quenching the candle. A match is struck and the same candle lit up again by Fairwind, who has entered bringing a gust of icy air._

_With a sigh, not noticing the dark, ominous shadow crouched in a corner of the kitchen, he shrugs off his greatcoat, walks to fireplace, takes his time starting the fire and then stands up, going to the small calendar to the wall, where he strikes another X with a piece of coal._

F. _murmuring_ “Merry Winter Veil, Mattie”.

_The ominous shadow jumps swiftly and silently from the corner where it was crouching. A bright, coppery hair shines in the firelight as Mathias Shaw wraps himself around the Captain._

M. _laughing_ “Merry Winter Veil to you too, love!”

_The Captain screams terrified and spins in the other man’s arm. He nearly bites angrily Shaw’s nose, but then he just kisses him with a snarl._


	6. The best present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, one understands the value of something -or someone- when they think they've lost them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. The prompt is "Surprise".

_Boralus, during the Winter Veil period. On the_ Wind’s Redemption, _Spymaster Shaw is sitting, fully dressed in his uniform, at the desk in his cabin. His elbows are on the tabletop and his face is in his hands. He looks shrunken, and when he lifts his head his cheeks are pale, his eyes red, hollow. It looks like he has aged years in mere hours. On the desk, an open report states that the trading ship_ Middenwake _has gone missing with all hands in a winter storm two days prior._

_Someone knocks at the door and then High Commander Halford Wyrmbane enters, without really waiting for Shaw’s permission._

H.W. “Mathias, I haven’t seen you all day on the main deck. I’ve come to check if you’re fine”.

M. _with a slow, slightly strained voice._ “I’m fine, Halford. I need a… moment’s respite and I’ll be on deck”.

H.W. “Oh, no, no need. Things are calm and you can take at least a couple days off, if you feel sick”.

M. “Thanks, but it won’t be necessary. I… will be okay”.

H.W. “Good. Now, with your leave, I will go back there to freeze”.

_Wyrmbane leaves and closes the door, quite puzzled about the Spymaster’s demeanour.  
He makes his way to the main deck and there, after some time, he hears the familiar holler of Captain Fairwind, whose_ Middenwake _has berthed less than one hour ago with some difficulty, partly maimed by a huge storm and pulled by a couple of towboats._

F. “Hello there! Permission to come on board?”

H.W. “Granted, Captain. Nasty weather you’ve had, I’ve been told”.

F. _grimacing_ “Indeed! But in the end we managed, even though there has been a moment that I thought ourselves lost. But where’s the good Spymaster? I have something for him”.

H.W. “Something?”

F. “Well, yes… something… like a present…”

H.W. “So you bring Winter Veil’s presents to the Spymaster. How… interesting”.

F. _blushing_ “Well, uh, you know… the poor spymaster… always lonely… I thought that…”

H.W. _smirks_ “He’s in his cabin, Captain, in a very… peculiar mood. Maybe a present could help him recover. After all, it’s Winter Veil and he should cheer up a bit”.

F. “Oh! of course, of course. On it!”

_Fairwind runs down and finds himself in front of the Spymaster’s door. He doesn’t even knock and opens the door with a bang and_

F. “Merry Winter Veil, Shaw! I’ve got a present for you!”

M. “...”

_Shaw looks at Fairwind incredulous for a long moment and then, with a lightning-fast movement, he jumps at him, wrapping himself around the shocked sailor and hiding his face in his chest._

M. “I don't need another one…!”


	7. What goes around, comes around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infamous trio Anduin-Wrathion-Flynn learns a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to thank with all my heart all the authors that have inspired me, made me laugh, made me cry, made me cower, made me learn. Thank you, all of you, who have been writing for this pairing. Merry Winter Veil to everyone! 
> 
> Written for Boilingheart's Fairshawlidays. Since I am always shy to ask and I like a difficult life, both prompts - Snowball fight and Snowman- are in.

_Stormwind Keep’s garden, like the whole city, has been buried under a terrible, albeit very rare, snowstorm some days before Winter’s Veil. The garden looks like Storm Peaks, an endless expanse of snow moulded in strange forms, which at a closer look are the trees, bushes and trellises.The High King, the Black Prince and Captain Fairwind of Kul Tiras are out there, dressed warmly with scarves and coats, enjoying the deep snow and throwing snowballs at each other._   
_Under the covered walkway, Master Mathias Shaw and King Genn Greymane are observing them with the indulgence of their more mature age. Yet, suddenly, the Spymaster notices something off. The trio have gathered out of ear’s reach and are discussing quietly, giggling among themselves. He can see only Prince Wrathion’s face and his evil grin makes all his nerves scream “alert”. The trio start walking toward them, their eyes on Greymane. The Wolf braces himself with a loud snarl as the three scoundrels get in range… and jump like one man on the Spymaster who got a whiff of it only too late. The man is held tight by the three, cursing and screaming, and he is carried to the garden and thrown, without much grace, into a high heap of snow._

K.A. “Ah, we did it! We caught you unaware, didn’t we?”

P.W. “I thought the good Spymaster was better at guessing intentions. This might be dangerous, Anduin, I hope you’re aware of this…”

F. “Uh, guys, no, I would not speak like this…”

K. A. “Why, Flynn, are you scared?”

_A low growl can be heard coming from the heap.The trio turns towards it and they can see snow rolling down and the Spymaster’s bright copper hair, dusted with snow, appears on top of it, followed by his eyes. Oh, those emerald green eyes shine murderous, full of the fire that animated the vengeance seeking Furies. The three rascals know that those are the eyes of doom and scatter like fearful pigeons. Shaw springs out of the snow heap and the hunt begins. Anduin is slower, the Spymaster reaches him in a split second and makes him stumble and fall headfirst into a snow heap. Wrathion seeks the exit but finds, in front of it, a very big, very tall and very large white worgen who blocks it. The Black Prince turns into his draconic aspect, keeping a size fit to move in that narrow space and takes off, forgetting that worgen can leap. He’s caught mid-air and slammed, with a shriek of protest, into another mound. In the meantime Shaw has cornered Flynn under a trellis and the man is looking at him like a calf would look at a butcher. He’s almost terrified._

F. _pleading_ “Mattie, no…”

M. “There’s no Mattie, here. There’s only Mathias-Bloody-Shaw and now you come here. **Now** I said!”

F. “Mattie… Mathias… no, please, forgive me, I didn’t mock you!”

M. “I said come here!”

F. “No, please!”

_Fairwind whimpers, cowering. The Spymaster’s face is terrible, the picture of vengeance, and his posture is the one of the hunting cat in front of a sparrow. He jumps again, grabs Flynn, who screams terrified, and kicks the trellis’ pole. A deluge of snow buries them both. In a moment, their heads resurface, full of snow. Shaw is grinning._

M. “So, you were scared. I saw you!”

F. “This is not nice, not nice, Mattie! Not remotely! Of course I was scared!”

M. “Good! I hope you will remember how it is to mess up with me!”

F. “You’re horrible!”

_Shaw climbs out to kiss Flynn’s wet nose, while the other two youths, still a bit shaken, are trying to get out of their mounds, observed by a very amused Greymane._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a very slow writer and I don't do well with dialogues, so I wanted to try my hand with this opportunity.  
> This and the following chapters are short, sketch-like silly things.  
> As always, comments and feedback are -very- appreciated.  
> Warnings: I'm not a native English speaker, there could be mistakes.  
> Since I can't really use this form, changes should be expected.


End file.
